


Welcome to Wonderland

by LeafaBee



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alice in Wonderland, Concern, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, HumanAU, Little bit of angst, M/M, Themed, Toshiro get's emotional, Yukio is an asshole, bad boy meets straight A student, carnal human love ensues, non-soul society, sensitive topics, world of the living
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4188051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeafaBee/pseuds/LeafaBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HumanAU: Straight A student Toshiro Hitsugaya, super geek, best friends with Momo Hinamori gets involved with notorious bad boy Yukio and without even realizing, gets caught up and dragged along in the bottle-downing, pill-popping, needle-rocking lifestyle Yukio leads. <br/>Before long, his grades plummet and Momo is worried sick about his health, but Toshiro seems too drunk in love to see straight and ignores her concerns. <br/>But in the end, in Wonderland, they'll both go mad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Ada here ~ this story deals with several sensitive issues such as drug and alcohol abuse as well as implied depression and anxiety disorders. Please if these things are triggering to you, I implore you not to read on because it gets heavy, thanks ~

He remembered from every Health class he'd ever had that drug and alcohol abuse were damaging both mentally and physically.

He remembered being told, that if you knew someone who suffered from either - or both - to get them help immediately.

He also remembered how silly he'd always thought people who caved to such petty things were.

But it's a different story being in the thick of it, bottle in one hand, ecstasy pills in the other. It's different running down the rabbit hole to a Wonderland and looking up and knowing how far you've fallen, knowing that the climb back up isn't worth the effort, reaching for another bottle to occupy your mind with something else.

Yes, he remembered what it was like before - what _he_ was like before - but looking at himself in the mirror, he found it increasingly difficult recognizing the face staring back.


	2. Bribe Me

The walls of the office were adorned with numerous academic certificates and achievements, shelves of obsessively polished trophies, and newspaper clippings - the success of past students littering them liberally. The rich red carpet spanning the expanse of the floor met dark mahogany skirting boards at the bases of all four sides, serving as a barricade between the deep crimson carpeting and crisp white of the mostly hidden walls. Two large windows acted as the only sources of natural lighting in the office, allowing golden pools of sunlight to pepper the floor, both of which located on the far wall opposite the door, where no student dared enter without just cause.

One such student was perched proudly in a red velvet armchair with golden trimming at the seams, the collar of his white shirt sitting smart and low around his neck, top buttons undone in the summer heat and deep plum tie neat on his chest. He was – all in all – immaculately presented and sitting with perfect posture. Beside him were two similar armchairs, though at present they were unoccupied.

A large mahogany desk stood impressively in front of the armchairs, housing a flawless arrangement of pens organised by shade and colour and a small stack of paperwork left deliberately to one side, at a glance they seemed to be leaflets for various top end universities. The man behind the desk straightened the navy lapel of his jacket before adjusting his glasses and fixing the student with a scrutinising look. Clearing his throat, he resumed in a plummy voice.

“I’d like you to tutor him, just until he can scrape enough to pass.” The conversation had been going on for well over the initial promise of ‘a few minutes’ and the boy whom he was addressing, swept the chalky hair from his face in frustration.

“I understand, sir, but I have my own classes to study for and surely that takes priority?” His tone was brisk and the Headmaster had no other choice but to change his tactics from plea to suck-up - a new low for such a highly regarded authority figure.

“You’re an incredibly gifted individual, Toshiro. Brightest kid we’ve ever seen in this school by a long shot. You really don’t think you’d be up to spending a couple of hours working with him?” It didn’t take an idiot to see through the poorly hidden deliberate emphasis of the comments. Toshiro merely frowned at the desperate attempt.  

“Again, as much as I understand your good intentions, it isn’t my responsibility to set straight problem students.” Which was entirely true, and he thought briefly about recommending the guidance councillor but the mild alarm on the man’s portly face caught his attention. Arching an eyebrow, he guessed at the issue. “What, didn’t you think I’d heard the rumours about him? Yukio is one of the most talked about people at this school, word spreads like wildfire about him. You know as well as I do that it must be bad for _me_ to hear about it with the company that I keep.” The headmaster blanched, moving in jerky motions to push his glasses up from where they’d slid down his nose.

The truth in the matter was that Yukio Hans Vorarlberna was the notorious ‘bad boy’ of the school, though it never made sense to anyone why he went off the rails quite like he had. The boy came from a rich, influential background but had gradually dropped off the perfect child list and into murky waters; mixing with the wrong people and getting into unwarranted fights. Yukio’s antics had become so increasingly outlandish over the years, that he was facing potential expulsion if he couldn’t salvage his abysmal grades, which was why Toshiro had been roped in as a last reluctant resort.

“I don’t have time to get frustrated about a delinquent being too thick to understand simple maths equations. I’m sorry.” He said, collecting his bag from beside the chair and making to stand. Frantically, the Headmaster pulled himself together enough to scramble for the pile of papers to his left.

“Not even if I do you a favour?” He called, not even bothering to mask the outrageous pitiful tone, but it was enough for Toshiro to pause his leaving to listen. The Headmaster wasted no time in spreading the papers across his desk. “Universities are coming to scout potential students for their prelim courses in a few weeks’ time, I could put in a good word for you..?” While he knew full well what was going on, Toshiro narrowed his eyes at the blatant bending of school rules.

“…Are you trying to bribe me?” He queried, and the man seemed slightly flustered and began to absently flatten the lapels of his jacket.

“W-well, I just …. I know you’re aiming to apply for most of the top universities, so-.” He rambled before being interrupted by the boy, who gathered his coat in his arms with a barely suppressed smile.

“It’s working. I’ll do what I can.” 


	3. Tell me all about it

The self-satisfied grin played on his face the whole way back to his classroom, and try as he may, he found it ever so difficult to drop it. Eventually however, after loitering in the empty corridor for a few minutes, taking breaths in and out to calm the excitement, he arranged his features in what he thought was a neutral expression.  

Knocking on the door, Toshiro waited for the summons before opening it and looking to the teacher, who glanced across at him as he closed the door behind himself.  

“Sorry I’m late … I-I was-.” He began, becoming conscious of the fact that he’d never been late before, thankfully however the teacher laughed off his growing embarrassment.

“With the Headmaster, yes. He ran it by me and said it may take longer to convince you than he hoped.” Placing the textbook down on her desk, she thought briefly about the situation. Did she honestly think it was a good idea for him to try to help Yukio? In short, no. As much as she knew not to admit it aloud, it had dawned on her that perhaps Yukio was too far gone for anyone to do anything anymore. She had watched his steady decline in both attitude and behaviour with waning hope that anyone would be able to stop it.

She must have looked either upset or cross in her pensive state, as Toshiro began to mutter another apology, a sheepish look on his face.

“It’s quite alright.” She waved him off, shaking her head at his perfectionist ideals. Maybe he could make a difference. Maybe he’s exactly what Yukio needed, rather than a correctional facility. “I take it you agreed in the end though?” She inquired, already knowing that if we was there, he must have said yes. The Headmaster had been awfully adamant that he’d get through to the boy.

“Of course.” Toshiro replied, somewhat roughly, holding himself in such a way to convey his own self-importance.

“That’s very kind of you.” The teacher motioned for him to take his seat. “We’re on page 104, ask Momo if there’s anything you don’t quite understand.” Nodding at her, he moved down the room of bored faces to his own empty chair, the brunette at the desk next to him staring slack-jawed the entire way.

The room was smaller than most of the other classrooms, as it was purely used by the ten-or-so students who took Mythology as an additional subject to boost their desirability to universities. It was a silly and tedious necessity that none of them particularly enjoyed. The course was only available for the top 5% of academic students at the school, and if they graded lower than a B on any test during the year, they were booted from it. As it was, only about eleven remained from the initial twenty-five who applied at the beginning of the year.

“What was all that about?” The second Toshiro had sat down, the brunette rounded on him. She wore her hair in low bunches tied nearly with plum ribbons, the same colour coincidentally as the neck bow on her uniform. Her white shirt and plaid skirt were regulation, three inches above the knee, unlike many of the other girls.

“Whereabouts on the page are we?” Toshiro barely even glanced up at her as he took out his book and flipped to the set page spread. Momo sat ramrod straight as he dodged her question, before pulling her desk closer to his and leaning over, doe eyes ablaze behind periwinkle glasses.  

“Toshiro, what’s going on? Why were you with the Headmaster?” She quizzed again, voice that much more demanding to know. Again, he ignored her.

“Modern Mythology or the Ancient Greek?” He asked nonchalantly, scanning the page for anything that seemed relevant. Momo recoiled and nibbled anxiously at her lip. For a while she said nothing, watching him get out a pencil and make a few notes from what the teacher was saying in the margin of the book. She drummed her fingers against the desk, shuffling at the silence. Eventually she had to speak up.

“Skirting around the question just makes me think you’re in trouble.” She muttered, failing to mask the tight anxiety in her voice. It was at that, Toshiro finally looked up at her.

“Me? Please, when have you known me to do _anything_ that would get me in trouble?” His attitude was confident, laughable almost. Comical. He may have even sounded cocky to anyone overhearing their conversation, though his pride in never having done wrong was in itself laughable. Momo frowned at him.

“Then tell me what-.” She began to argue, but he cut across her in a testy tone.

“I’ve missed half of this lesson already, I’m not going to miss the rest of it.” Catching her scolded child expression, he signed. “I’ll tell you later, it’s really not important though.” She smiled in triumph.

Lunch saw the pair sitting under the shade of a tree in the gardens of the school, the hot summer sun bright and scorching high in the midday sky. Toshiro hugged his books to his chest and lent back, never being one to enjoy the heat. Momo on the other hand seemed to delight in the sunny weather, smiling fondly at his lethargic behaviour.

“Tutoring Yukio doesn’t sound all that fun if I’m honest.” She reiterated their conversation, giggling lightly as he groaned something unintelligible before pulling himself up into a sitting position, letting the books fall into his lap.

“See, I told you it wasn’t anything exciting.” Raking a hand through his chalky hair, he sighed, wondering in short when he’d have to start. Momo glanced around at the other students’ running back and forth, thoroughly enjoying not having to be in a classroom on such a beautiful day, which only furthered her humour at her friend’s laziness.

“Like he’s going to listen to a word that comes out of your mouth, it’ll drive you crazy.” She mused, reaching over to pinch his cheek affectionately. He swatted her hand away and gave her a pointed look.

“It’s either he listens and does what I tell him to do, or he gets expelled. He doesn’t really have too many choices.”


	4. Details

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {this is so short I'm so sorry - I'm sick with the flu atm, it'll be longer when I'm better again!}

It was a few days before Toshiro heard any more on the subject of a certain delinquent. But when he did, it was through a letter of summons to the Headmaster’s office, once again. For the second time in that week, he walked through the halls with mild apprehension, arms laden with textbooks and shuffling gait.

Quite why he had to go again, was left ambiguous, the letter simply stated that it was a follow up meeting.

Upon arrival, he knocked gingerly on the large wooden door, waiting for what felt like a lifetime before he was called in. The Headmaster wrung his hands anxiously and took a deep breath as Toshiro sat down in one of the empty velveteen armchairs.

“Yukio was meant to be here too, but … well, he’s not.” He said, voice tight and authoritive. Toshiro merely raised an eyebrow and spared a glance at the empty seats.

“Can’t say I’m all that surprised.” He replied, wondering vaguely why Yukio seemed to be so elusive. Thinking about it, while he knew the name fairly well, Toshiro had never seen the guy nor had any idea what he looked like.

“Quite.” The Headmaster, crossed his arms across his chest and lent back in his chair, more at ease knowing that his student could humour him so casually. “Well, I’ve agreed with Yukio potential days for tutoring sessions and wanted to confirm with you whether or not you’re available on-.”

“He needed to be here for that?” The boy was quick to interject, a look akin to sceptical confusion scrawled across his face. There was a moment of silence, before the man at his desk straightened a row of pens and cleared his throat.

“I thought it may be convenient if you met each other before having to go to his home.” The thought that he’d have to go to Yukio’s house hadn’t occurred to him, thought it made perfect sense so he couldn’t be upset at not having known.

“It’s fine, as long as he’s tolerable I’m sure we’ll get along alright.” He watched as the Headmaster slid a piece of paper across the table toward him.

“His address.” He said, as Toshiro picked it up to look at. “Monday’s, Wednesday’s and Friday’s, two hours a night for at least a month.” At that, the boy looked up sharply from the address with a start.

“That’s over 20 hours of my time! I thought you were going to say once a week, not _three_ times. When am I meant to-?”

“You study very much the same subjects, other than those extras you picked up. You can study together, surely?” The headmaster tried to reason, smoothing down the lapels of his jacket. A nervous habit, it seemed.

Another stagnant silence settled in the office in which Toshiro mulled over his options; sacrifice and sink a decent portion of time into Yukio’s education, or focus on his own. The first came with perks however, as he was promised leverage at the Open Day, and it was with a sigh that he nodded. Yes, he could study with Yukio. He could do that.

“Those Universities you’re telling about me had better take an avid interest.” 


	5. Honestly, he's out of my league

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {sorry for the delay!}

Monday morning rolled around faster than he’d have liked. Searching blindly in the dark for the alarm, Toshiro rolled over and sat up, phone in hand to turn the sound off. He winced against the light before pulling himself out of the warmth of his bed.

“Morning!” His mother chirped happily as he stumbled into the kitchen twenty minutes later, face like thunder. Grumbling a reply, he sat at the breakfast bar and adjusted his tie. His mother came over and ruffled his hair.

“I’m going to be late tonight.” He muttered, taking the plate of toast and nibbling the corner. The woman clapped her hands together and brushed a lock of her fair hair behind her ear. Just then, a man entered the kitchen, immaculately presented in a well-pressed suit, car keys in hand. Walking over to his wife, she curled into his side and kissed his cheek lovingly, earning herself a sincere smile.

Their moment was disturbed by Toshiro sliding off the bar stool and making to leave the vicinity, his mother however had other plans. Waltzing over to impede his escape, she grabbed his shoulders and steered him back into the room. 

“Ah yes, it’s awfully kind of you to tutor that poor boy. Your father and I are both very proud.” Hugging him, he tensed slightly. He hadn’t told them about it. He hadn’t wanted them to think he was wasting time with local riff-raff rather than studying himself.

“…Yeah.” His look of apprehension wasn’t missed, and his mother was quick to paw at his fringe affectionately and explain.

“Oh, sorry sweetheart, your Headmaster let us know the arrangements.” Smiling, she was oblivious to the eye roll. Struggling to get out of her grip, Toshiro eventually wriggled himself free and out of the door, but not without a kiss on the cheek and a ‘good luck’. 

~*~

Momo met up with him at the front gate of the school and grabbed him before he could walk through them. Running along the street, she pulled him around the corner before he hit the brakes.

“Where are we going?” He asked irritably, pulling his arm free and rubbing the place she’s held. For someone so petite, she had a remarkably firm grasp. Rounding on him, she looked uneasy and the uncertainty caught Toshiro off-guard – it was uncharacteristic of her to be on edge.

“I … Okay, look … No, gosh, I-.” Stammering, Momo shuffled on the spot. A few students walked bleary-eyed past on their commute seemingly oblivious to them, which wasn’t difficult as it was early morning, and school didn’t officially start for another half hour. Eventually Momo just took a breath. “Just follow me, please?” And follow he did, albeit reluctantly.

She led him in a roundabout way to the back of the school, where they then slipped through the gap in the closed gate, where the padlocked chain gave a small amount of slack. Once inside, Momo ambled across the grass at a leisurely gait, pausing every few strides for Toshiro who refused to walk any faster. After a while, they ended up behind the school’s greenhouse, where on the ground was a bright blue storage crate, holes in the sides and something moving skittishly inside. 

“A rabbit?” Toshiro said deadpan after kneeling down and peering inside the upturned crate. Appalled at his disinterest, Momo carefully lifted the crate and gathered the animal in her arms.

“A _white_ rabbit. Cute isn’t he?” Smiling, she kissed the top of its head as it lay placidly against her, blinking up at the two of them. Petting it gently, it seemed awfully content but unfortunately the boy was quick to bring her back to reality. 

“Where did you get it?” He asked, narrowing his eyes and _knowing_ that she hadn’t simply been given it. Her prolonged, guilty silence only confirmed his suspicions. Just as he was about to snap at her for breaking school rules, she beat him to the punch.

“They were going to hurt him, Toshiro! I couldn’t let that happen!” She may have sounded aggressive had he not known better, but the defensive was certainly at the forefront of her argument. Folding his arms over his chest, he stood back up from the grass and sighed at her.

“That rabbit wasn’t yours to take. You need to put it back in the science labs.” He scolded, looking between the girl and the rabbit that had begun to struggle in her tightening grip – as protective as it was meant to be, he didn’t miss how uncomfortable and distressed the animal was becoming.

“So they can kill him? No way!” Momo all but screeched, cuddling it closer to her. The poor thing was in a panic by that point, and could only have been seconds away from scratching the girl to pieces in a frenzy to escape the vice of her arms. Thankfully, Toshiro stepped in and firmly told her to put it down in the crate again, which she grudgingly obeyed. “You have to help me save him!” She pleaded, feeding pieces of grass through the holes.

“It’s not a pet bunny, Momo. It’s a lab rabbit, specifically bred for-.” He tried to reason, glancing around to make sure they were alone and no one would overhear her potential theft.

“I don’t care, look at him and tell me you could cut him up.” Adamant, she looked up at her friend from the ground, desperate to convey her point. He remained sceptical.

“If you get caught stealing rabbits, there could be some pretty serious consequences.” He replied, trying to ignore the puppy eyes she was sending his way. What a weakness to have.

“ _Look_ at him!” She pushed, staring hard until he cracked – which she knew he would. He always did.

“Fine!” He frowned at her before checking his watch. “Take it home and I’ll cover for you and say you’re running late.” To say she threw herself at him wouldn’t be far from the truth, and as it were, they ended up in a heap in the grass, Momo on top of him seemingly without a care in the world.

“Thank you so much! I knew you were my best friend for a reason.” She beamed, climbing up and offering him a hand, which he took before checking his uniform for grass stains. None. Thankfully.

“Oh yeah, so you can be a secret eco-warrior.” He scoffed checking again that there was still no one in the vicinity other than the pair of them.

~*~

As it turned out, he hadn’t had to say she was going to be late at all, as she turned up out of breath and exhausted barely a minute past the bell. That school day was routine and ended with a written reminder to Toshiro that he had ‘after-school’ matters to attend to, and as they left the building and the boy was fishing in his pocket for Yukio’s address, a gleaming slick limousine caught their attention.   

“Excuse me, are you Mr Toshiro Hitsugaya?” Glancing over to the source of the voice, the boy gawked at what could only have been the pristine, stony faced chauffeur of said vehicle. Blinking, he glanced at Momo, wondering why on earth the driver seemed to know who he was. She shrugged, just as oblivious. Clearing his throat, he shifted the books in his arms.

“I … Yes?” He replied, watching with ever reddening cheeks as other students passed them with dirty looks and sharp whispers. The driver nodded and motioned to the black stretch that winked in the sunlight.  

“Your lift, sir.” It was at that point that the boy paled, narrowed his eyes and shuffled on the spot, highly uncomfortable at being offered such a luxury seemingly from thin air.

“My lift?” He queried, voice not nearly as firm as he’d have liked. The driver remained stoic, mouth set in a permanent scowl as he fixed Toshiro with a scrutinizing look.

“Master Yukio requested that I collect you.” The driver’s tone was very almost a dull monotony, save for the mention of Yukio’s name, where he seemed to chirp up a small amount. However, both students stared slack-jawed at the car as the pieces slid into place. Toshiro frowned after a while, the thought that this Yukio character was a show off if ever he’d known one drummed at his temples.

“You have to be kidding...” He muttered, listening to Momo giggling next to him, feeling her nudging him with her elbow and a choked whisper of ‘what a charmer’ before re-focusing on the chauffer opening the door for him.  

“I am not, sir.”

Momo bid him farewell with a coy smile as he climbed into the back of the stretch, marvelling instantly at the coolness of the air conditioning and plushness of the seats. It was laughable though, how swift the drive was, and how not even fifteen minutes later he felt it glide to a standstill. The door was opened for him, and it was as he stepped out that he glimpsed the enormous manor.   

Light grey rustic bricks made up the front exterior, with decorative white edging. Four balconies and two dozen windows loomed over the driveway, and if he craned his neck all the way back, he could just make out two chimneys jutting out up into the sky. Walking tentatively up the steps to the front porch, he glanced hesitantly either side of him as the walls of either wing began, windows thrown open and wide.

Knocking lightly at the colossal chestnut door, Toshiro clutched the textbooks close to his chest – a nervous habit – and waited patiently. He didn’t wait long, however, as a tall man dressed smartly in black and white answered the door with a flourish. The youth couldn’t ignore how out of place he felt in such a grandeur surrounding.

“If you’d kindly follow me, Master Yukio will be with you shortly.” His voice was collected, and very much how Toshiro imagined a butler or servant would sound, though it seemed very odd that he was face to face with one. Who knew Yukio’s family was wealthy enough for such luxuries?

He followed the man into the estate and marvelled at the size of it – he’d never seen a house so big in his life. While it was amazing and he couldn’t deny the feeling of awe, it also seemed unnecessarily vast for one family.

The butler led Toshiro into a large living room area where he was told to wait. Floor length windows lined one wall, overlooking the garden, and were framed by huge heavy curtains that fell short of the floorboards by what could only be half an inch. A large oak table stood between two forest green sofas and on it rest what appeared to be a fairly fresh tray of tea. An old Persian rug ran the expanse of the floor, bright and juxtaposing the relatively new furniture settled on and around it. Full bookcases lined either end of the room, beside the doors and Toshiro noticed with a small smile that the entire collection of Shakespeare’s’ greatest works lined an entire shelf on the case closest to him. In the centre of the wall opposite the windows, a large fireplace chewed up a decent chunk and much like the rest of the place, was positively monstrous in size.

“Nice for you to drop by.” A slightly husky voice called out to him from the doorway and caused him to break his ogling of the décor. Spinning on his heel, Toshiro finally came face to face with what he could only presume was the infamous blonde, lopsided smirk playing on his lips at the badly contained wonderment on his guest’s face. 


	6. History

“You’re rich.” Toshiro narrowed his eyes at the blonde, looking him briefly up and down. Yukio merely smirked at the profession, walking with intent further into the room and lowering himself into a plush green armchair.

“Yes, did you not know?” The arrogance was there in a lilting lullaby tone of voice. Feeling uncomfortable all over again, Toshiro shuffled the books in his arms before glancing over to the large oak table, the polished surface shimmering in the sunlight.

“You sent a limousine to bring me here.” He stated, not sure why the gesture had been necessary as it could have only taken him about half an hour to walk. It seemed to him as though Yukio was the type of person who was quick to establish the difference in wealth.

“I did. You’re welcome.” Yukio quipped back, not taking his eyes off of the other, watching him like a hawk – Toshiro couldn’t have known at the time of course, as his mind was elsewhere, but the look was almost predatory.

Walking over to the table, he dropped the textbooks with a dull thud, only then skirting his eyes back – in a roundabout fashion – toward Yukio, lounging without a care in the world on the sofa.

 “History. Page 102. Civil war in Rome 90bc, The Social War.”  He said sternly, challenging Yukio to argue or resist, but the blonde pulled himself to his feet with only a hint of reluctance.

“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” He muttered as he slinked past and then down into one of the chairs opposite the stack of books. Toshiro regarded him for a moment.

“No, I’m here to make sure you don’t fail.” He replied, sliding the History textbook across the table to him. “So open the book, page 102.” Repeating the instructions, it seemed the bad attitude he had expected had begun to make an appearance, as Yukio neither looked at nor touched it.

“Why history?” He asked, lip curling and nose scrunching in distaste. The chalky haired boy sighed in agitation at the non-compliant behaviour being exhibited. He took a seat.

“I was told it was your worst subject, therefore I wanted to-.” He’d begun to explain the study timetable he’d drawn up, but Yukio wasn’t listening.

“Too many dates to remember. Why bother memorising all of them when I can’t even get a date myself.” He said offhandedly, resting his elbows on the table-top and leaning his chin on the palm of his hand staring off out of the window.

“Maybe if you weren’t known to be trouble, you could.” Toshiro retorted, not even bothering to look up. Yukio pouted at the disinterest he was receiving.

“So why’d you agree to this? You don’t come across as all that charitable.” He queried crossly, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back in his chair. Toshiro reached out and pulled the book back with a huff, flipping to the correct page and flipping it back around.

“I was _personally_ asked by our Headmaster, he doesn’t want your failure to reflect badly on the school.” He said impassively, completely unfocused on the conversation. “Could you please just read this page?”

“Oh don’t bother sugar-coating it for my sake, be as honest as you can.” Yukio said sarcastically, finally dropping his eyes to the textbook, scanning the pages. However, not ten minutes later, the butler that Toshiro had met earlier made another appearance, keeping his trend of opening doors with an unnecessary flourish.

“Master Yukio, sir.” He said levelly as he reached the side of the table. Yukio looked up at him from the book, relief all over his face at the distraction. Toshiro felt irritation simmer in his stomach.

“Yes?” He chirped happily, lifting a hand and brushing his fringe from his face. Forest green eyes blinked up wide and bright from beneath the tendrils he missed.

“Would you like some tea?” The butler gestured to the tray in the centre of the trestle.

“Love some.” Yukio snapped the book closed with a satisfied grin, deliberately locking eyes with Toshiro the entire time, knowing he was already seething. “What about our resident historian?” He offered, smirking enough to press every single one of his buttons.

“Yes, thank you.” Toshiro said as calmly as he could bite out. With all the distractions, he didn’t think it would be possible for he himself to study, and quite how Yukio expected to get anything done was beyond him. But then, did he really intend to study? He seemed overly eager to opt out at the slightest chance. Was that why he was there? Did he have attention issues?

“Yo, you still there?” Snapping back out of his thoughts, he came face to face with said blonde leaning over the table much too close to his face, waving a hand in front of his eyes.

“Sorry, yes, hi!” He spluttered, embarrassment dusting his cheeks pink. “Right, okay so tea.” Picking up the saucer and tea cup, he lifted them up in an attempt to mask his flustered expression, but the blonde hooked his index finger over the rim of the saucer, halting its progress. Glancing up from the vapour swirls, he met those inquisitive green eyes.

“That’s too hot to drink.” Yukio inclined his head, it was then that the prior noticed the blonde was actually kneeling on the table to reach him, which only served to embarrass him further. He would’ve looked like a complete idiot choking on hot tea had Yukio not crawled over the table-top to stop him.

“I knew that I was just-!”

“Doesn't matter.” Yukio interrupted, moving away before jumping down to the floor. Toshiro placed the saucer back down before awkwardly twirling the tips of snowy hair by his neck in an attempt to regain composure after such a bizarre turn of events. “Anyway, I’m taking a break.” Twisting in his seat, he watched the blonde walking toward the door, tea in hand.

“Take fifteen, sure.” He muttered, feeling uncharacteristically small all of a sudden. The room seemed too large, ceiling too tall and windows too long. It was dizzying. He wondered how Yukio could feel so at home in such a massive place, but he seemed happy and content enough within its walls.

“Great, I’ll be back in like an hour! Entertain yourself till then.” He chirped merrily, not bothering to look back.

“Wait, no-!” Toshiro almost fell out of his chair in the hurry of trying to stop the blonde, but he was gone before he had even stood.

“Back in a bit!” Yukio called over his shoulder as he disappeared through the double door into the maze of the rest of the house. It was going to difficult putting up with him and his impulsive behaviour, and Toshiro knew already good studying would be sporadic at best. 


	7. Taunt me, tease me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~TW very light drug and alcohol mentions~

Little over an hour passed before Yukio ambled back into the room, large crisp packet tucked under one arm and an open bottle of apple cider in his hand. The bored expression he had worn earlier nowhere in sight, as he hummed happily under his breath, sheer delight in every step. Toshiro bristled at his tardiness.

“When I said you could have a break, I didn’t mean-.” He stopped short of finishing his lecture however, as the blonde came into view and sat down, kicking his feet up onto the table-top and reclining in his chair. But what bothered Toshiro more so than his laziness – more so even, than the cider – was the unmistakable grassy scent of marijuana. They’d learnt all about a variety of drugs in their first year Health classes, and how to identify them. “Seriously?” Toshiro barked, a silent fury swelling in his chest.

“What?” Yukio asked, inclining his head. The previously attentive gaze was hazy and soft, pupils blown wide. Shoving a handful of crisps into his mouth he washed them down with a swig of alcohol. Toshiro stared in horror at the boy in front of him.

Where previously he’d come across every bit the spoilt bratty rich kid, as he upended the packet and crunched on the snack, shifting restlessly in the seat, the illusion shattered. It dawned on Toshiro that his issues were more significant than he had thought.  

“Does the potential of being _expelled_ really not scare you at all?” He asked in disbelief, wondering how on earth he could even think about slacking off in such a way. Yukio looked at him and for a moment said nothing, just sipping at his drink, but eventually he perked up with a grin.

“Not really.” Laughing at the horrified look on the other’s face, he missed the irritated growl and deliberate slamming closed of the book he had in front of him.  

“Then I’m evidently wasting my time with you.” Toshiro pushed himself to his feet and began gathering up his books, but Yukio lent forward, pressing his elbows onto the history one to impede his leaving.

“Dude, don’t say that, isn’t this fun?” He whined, twirling the lip of the bottle between his fingers.

“For who?” Toshiro fumed, ripping it out from under him, feeling more than a little satisfied by the crack of elbows meeting table and muttered ‘ouch’.

“Well I usually don’t get company, so this is a laugh.” Yukio replied, rubbing the injury but never once dropping the uncomfortably cheery grin, and that only fuelled the other’s discomfort and rage at having his time apparently wasted.

“I’m not here for ‘a laugh’, Yukio! Jesus, I’m here to help you scrape a pass.” He shouted, voice bouncing loudly around the room, and gesticulating wildly to get his frustration across, and it was then that the smile faltered, like an engine sputtering or a light blinking out.

“You’re such a dog to the system, and you don’t even know it.” Yukio uttered, downing the last of the bottle and dregs and pulling his knees up to this chest, balancing feet on the front of the seat. Toshiro was taken aback by the twist in behaviour and it took a moment before he registered the words, but when he had, he scrunched his nose in distaste.

“Excuse me?” He said incredulously, completely offended by what he presumed was an insult, and just as he was about to bite back a harsh remark, the blonde cut across him.

“You.” He said nonchalantly. “You’re a total puppy. You do as you’re told, and you jump through all these stupid hoops and you don’t even question any of it.” There was no denying it, he was a good student, obeying and respecting the system his entire life, because at the end of the day, it worked and it was effective.

What he didn’t understand however, was that while it worked for him, it failed many others. Those children who couldn’t study, those who learnt in other ways, those who struggled with both mental and physical disorders, those who ran off the tracks – the education system didn’t have support for those who fought their way for grades. It didn’t have time for them, and generally, it operated in such a way to mask the flaws and as such, students such as Toshiro who’d never suffered a day in his life over school were naïve and oblivious to the issues.

“Wanting a good life doesn’t make me a goddamn dog.” He corrected with narrowed eyes and a venomous tongue. Yukio fidgeted in his seat, giggling slightly at how upset his guest was becoming, how irate and wounded he became at such a simple remark.

“You’re so boring, don’t you ever relax?” He asked, smiling despite himself at the sneer on Toshiro’s face. “It’s bad for your health to be so stressed out all of the time, you should-.”

“The irony of _you_ giving me health advice is incredible.” He scoffed, picking his bag up and slinging the strap over his shoulder. “You’re in no position to tell me what’s healthy or not, take a look at yourself.” The bout of laughter that spilt from Yukio’s lips was unintentional and he may have looked embarrassed had he known what he was doing, but between the high and the tipsiness, he simply ragdolled to a lean over the table.

“Sure look at me, look all you like. Hey, you could even take a photo if you really want, I don’t mind.” He murmured, biting his lip playfully and watching with barely contained delight at the agitated fluster dusting his guest’s face at such a brash move.

“Have you no shame?” Toshiro queried incredulously, voice scathing as he turned and marched off, not even waiting for an answer. As he rounded the corner, he was fairly sure he heard Yukio call something in response, though he had no idea what. 


	8. Flip-side

It was without surprise that the Headmaster watched Toshiro pace irritably in his office. Round and round. The sun fell in pools around the room, causing various methodically dusted ornaments to wink in the light. Once again a stack of papers took up one end of the large desk in front of the windows, and once again, a row of pens rest beside them.

The Headmaster crossed his arms across his chest, as finally the boy stopped pacing circles and rounded on him, pressing his hands firmly on the edge of the desk.

“You could have warned me that there was more to it than the fighting.” Toshiro chided, staring defiantly at the Headmaster as though it were his fault, before realising that his anger was perhaps misguided and instead fell back into the armchair behind him dejectedly.

“I presumed you were aware, since you said you’d heard about him.” The Headmaster fingered the lapels of his jacket, becoming increasingly aware of the likelihood that he’d refuse to go back, and the whole plan would be out of the window.

“Yes, but I thought he was suspended because of antisocial behaviour, not drugs!” Toshiro practically shouted, gesticulating wildly, leaning forward and displaying rather more aggression than usual – so much so in fact, that he caught himself in surprise and ran a hand down his face before regaining his composure once more. “Sorry. With all due respect sir, I wasn’t prepared for him to take an hour out and come back loopy as the Mad Hatter.” Frowning, he watched the Headmaster fiddle with a button on his jacket before pushing himself to stand, the wear of age creaking and cracking his bones as he did so.

“That’s quite alright. Do you wish to quit, in that case?” Walking around the desk, he began to make his way to the door, fully expecting Toshiro to be at his heel, ready to leave. “I understand that it was a tall order to ask of you in the first place, but-.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m sure I can figure something out. After all, where would any of the greats be if they gave up after the first hurdle?” Turning, mild surprise ghosted the man’s features before a pleasant calmness swept through him. Toshiro at that point, stood from the red velvet armchair and gathered his things. The Headmaster watched him closely, but he couldn’t deny the veiled affection he felt for that student in particular.

“Quite.” He smiled at the boy, impressed with the determination he presented. “Your persistence is admirable.” A small bubble of laughter spilt from the teenager’s mouth as he walked briskly out of the office, though whether it was humour or pride was hard to tell.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll see what I can do.” He called over his shoulder as he disappeared back into the labyrinth of the college, the old man never once lifting his eyes.

The thought that that student could go anywhere he wanted was at the forefront of his mind, with the grades he achieved and the commitment to challenges he displayed, universities would be eager to snap him up and the desirability of the college would skyrocket.

The Headmaster clicked closed the office door with a satisfied smile.

~*~

Wednesday saw another almost fruitless study session, with tempers surging in the summer heat and Yukio using every excuse he could think of to leave the table.

“I need to open the windows, it’s too hot in here.” He got up and walked around the room, throwing open the long floor length windows that overlooked the garden, leaning long and low out of each to feel the breeze on his face and smell the scent of freshly cut grass.

“Can’t you just pay attention?” Toshiro snapped after growing tired of watching the display after the first window. The blonde looked over his shoulder sheepishly, still half hanging outside.

“But it’s boring!” He whined, pouting childishly but heaving himself back over to the table nevertheless. It had become quite entertaining for him to wind up the other boy and throwing spanners in his best made plans seemed to be the most effective way to achieve that.

“That’s not really my problem.” He huffed, tapping the book in front of him and pointing to the same paragraph in the one open in front of Yukio. “I just need you to pass-.”

“Pass the end of year exams, yes I know. You’ve said that a good half dozen times already.” The blonde repeated sarcastically, mimicking Toshiro’s work ethic by grabbing the neon pink highlighter and running it across a sentence he hadn’t even bothered to read.  

“Well as long as you understand how important it is, then I won’t need to say it again.” Resuming his own reading of the paragraph, he heard Yukio muttering thickly under his breath.

“I’ve already told you that I don’t like jumping through hoops. I’m not a dog. I won’t do tricks for treats.” Biting his lip at the obvious reinstallation of the ‘dog’ comment, Toshiro laughed hollowly, the grin on his face as he looked back to Yukio sharp and cutting.

“I’d appreciate if you’d stop with the dog analogy.” Voice a saccharine sweetness that tasted bitter the second it left his tongue. Not that he didn’t think Yukio was aware already, but the comment bothered him to no end, and the passive aggressive request was a dead giveaway. The blonde simply smiled.

“Why? Are you taking offence?” The question hung in the air, but all Toshiro did was wrinkle his nose at the clear wind up. He wouldn’t rise to the bait, he was better than that. Yukio could try to piss him off all he liked, but he’d keep his composure better than last time.

A good half hour passed with no more interruptions, much to Toshiro’s delight, as he could finish taking down notes and colour coding the textbook pages. Yukio meanwhile, took to colouring in the entire page vibrant highlighter pink. After he’d finished the last corner, he capped the pen and made to stand.

“Where are you going _now_?” Toshiro sighed exasperatedly, lazily flicking his eyes up to watch the blonde scratch at the crook of his arm and jitter on the spot for a few seconds.

“I need a drink.” He said, tilting his chin up and nodding before making to move away.

“You have a butler, isn’t it his job to get things for you?” Toshiro inquired, narrowing his gaze and scrutinising every movement the blonde made, trying to contain the incredulity he felt over yet another excuse to get up, but Yukio smirked.

“Wrong kind of drink.” He gave a lopsided grin at the poorly hidden agitation, however the satisfaction at having finally visibly riled the boy gave way the second he closed his text book, notes inside, and shoved the pens back into his bag.

“Right. Okay. On that bombshell, I’m going home.” He said, throwing the bag over his shoulder and resting the stack of textbooks in his arms, History AQA laying on top.

“Why? We’ve been sat here for hours, why don’t you stay and-?” Yukio began, having wanted to annoy the boy but not necessarily make him leave, because as much as he didn’t like to admit it, he liked the company.

“Because, Yukio, I have _my own_ tests to study for. I have a Latin test on Friday, a Mythology pop quiz Monday, then a Biology one coming up next Wednesday. The world doesn’t stop because you can’t be bothered to study.” The chalky haired boy walked over and shuffled the books in his arms to better be able to hand the History one over, edges of the note paper jutting out the sides.

“I think you’re a little stressed, I would really suggest-.” Yukio tried again, wanting him to stay for just a while longer, it didn’t have to be a lot. They could play video games instead, he’d enjoy that a lot more.

“Keep your suggestions to yourself, I don’t really have time to listen to the ramblings on an idiot.” Toshiro said nonchalantly, eyeing the door and muttering a ‘see you’ as he walked past.

“Me _ow_ , maybe I was wrong about the dog thing. You’re catty as fuck.” Yukio grinned despite himself at the bitchy comment, and wondered briefly if that was really how he was. If outside of his company he still acted like he was king and everyone else he saw to be inferior academically were beneath him. He doubted it. He liked to doubt it anyway, he liked to think he’d have a nicer temperament if he wasn’t under so much stress all the time.

He didn’t hate him though. Far from it, he liked the challenge, in fact he’d even go so far as to say he found it almost endearing, in a strange sort of way.

So it was then, that as he watched him go, he felt that familiar pang of loneliness set in once again.

~*~

Yukio sat at the table long after Toshiro had left, the playful smile and sarcastic attitude gone and instead of a textbook in his hands, he held a bottle of vodka and small, unopened, yellow prescription bottle of pills. The faraway look on his face directed out of the window across the rolling green grass of the garden that was slowly fading out into the drawing evening.

“Master Yukio, sir.” Snapping out of his pensive state, the blonde glanced up to his left to see his butler – his only honest ‘friend’, if he dared call anyone that – looking down at him wearily, a hand rest gently on his shoulder. Arranging his features into something other than sadness, he smiled, though it was solemn at best.  

“Yes?” He replied, tilting his head ever so slightly to better look at the man, though once he had, he felt a pang of guilt and averted his eyes again.

“Would you like me to arrange another appointment? I’ve noticed your sleep schedule has gone on the blitz again.” When he spoke, his voice was nothing like how it had been while addressing Toshiro, there was no monotone and no deep sighing as though he wished to be anywhere but where he was. Instead, he was soft and caring, his voice an almost lilting lullaby in the empty house.

“No, it’s alright. I’ll just be scolded for not doing as I was told.” Yukio looked at the bottle of pills in his hand, tilting it one way and another to listen to the dull rattle, before laying it flat on its side and taking to rolling it instead, index finger twitchy on the plastic like it was a trigger.

“If I may, sir. Your parents should be informed of this, I’m sure-.” His butler began, concern creasing his face and lacing the softness of his voice, drawing it tighter.

“You think they’d care?” Yukio stared up through his fringe, doe eyed and hopeful, the rolling of the bottle at a stand-still. The man was struck dumb by the childish hopefulness. It was a look he hadn’t seen on Yukio’s face in a long time, and it did wonders to brighten his appearance. He always seemed so lonely by himself in that big house.

He knew he could make or break the boy’s optimism with just a few words. ‘Yes, of course they’d care. They’re your parents, they love you’. He wanted to see the glow Yukio would get from hearing such a simple thing, and yet he knew it wasn’t his place to lie. It wasn’t his place to instil false information, fake faith, and it would kill him to find out differently.

Resigning himself to a grimace, he lowered his gaze.

“You’re quite right, sir. My apologies.” He couldn’t bear to look at the let-down he knew he’d see on the boy’s face, and so he busied himself with drawing the curtains over the gathering dusk outside. When he turned back some time later, he was met with Yukio head down on the table, once again rolling the bottle, watching it aimlessly.

“I just … I _can’t_ take them.” Yukio listened absently as his butler walked back around and took the seat opposite him, scraping the legs against the floorboards and pulling them back in.

“I understand your concerns, however, surely it’s within your best interests to trial them? You wouldn’t have been prescribed them had they thought the risk was too high.” The man offered, trying his best to calm and comfort the distressed teenager, but Yukio simply continued to roll the rattling pill bottle, the sound far too loud in the quietness of the room.

“I was prescribed them because I paid him to give them to me, despite being told explicitly that I had a far higher than average risk of developing dependency.” In the silence that followed his statement, Yukio snapped his head up, and let the bottle roll over toward the man, who picked it up in a confused – if a little disappointed - daze.

“What would you like me to do with them, in that case?” He asked, watching with mild alarm as the boy pushed up from the table and grabbed the vodka, downing some before replying.

“Just put them back in the medicine cabinet, I suppose.” He motioned to somewhere outside of the dining room, and began to move in that same general direction.

“and what will you do about sleeping tonight?” His butler stood too, but made no move to follow, instead he waited patiently for a reply he knew would come sooner or later, and in the brief lapse in footfalls - the brief swig and hand pulling through hair – Yukio looked at the bottle and lifted it up.

“What I always do when it gets like this, just drink until I pass out.” As he disappeared out of the room and up the grand main staircase, his butler watched him with a pitying frown. It was uncomfortable, even for him, to stand by and watch the boy’s disenchantment of the world as he’d been with the family Yukio’s entire life.

He’d been there when Yukio had first learnt to walk, talk, run and ride a bike, and he’d been there when his parents had still openly loved him, though that was a long time ago. But just as he’d been there for the good, he’d also had to see the swearing, the shouting, the crying, the drinking, and ultimately, the drugs.

He didn’t return them to their place in the medicine cabinet. He took them and he placed them instead in the draw of his own bedside table, knowing that if Yukio eventually decided he needed them, he would ask and the dosages would be monitored.

He would take care of him, that was his job, after all, but even more so than that, he felt like the only one left who was willing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, Ada here ~ just to let you know, I'm going on holiday and this will be the last chapter until I get back which will be the 26th, after which the story (and posting) will become regular again ~ thanks!! x


	9. Family Portrait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally back from holiday, sorry fro the massive delay, but posting will resume as normal! Thanks for baring with~ x

“You’re back late, sweetheart, is everything okay?” His mother was on him the second he walked into the kitchen, placing his books on the breakfast bar and bag at the foot of the stall. Immediately, she took a glass down from the cupboard above the sink and filled him a glass of water, adding two ice-cubes for good measure and handing it to him with a soft maternal smile. Toshiro took the glass with a ‘thank you’ and sipped at it.

“Sorry, yeah, we … we got a lot done and I lost track of time.” He lied, not wanting to admit they’d accomplished nothing as of yet, that Yukio was reluctant and fighting him despite knowing the consequences.

“So you’re making good progress?” His mother returned to the stove where she continued to stir the contents of a pot with a wooden spoon. A car pulled into the driveway, headlights blaring through the living room window and illuminating the photos on the wall behind the sofa, faces smiling and bright. Back in the kitchen, Toshiro finished his water whilst thinking of a believable response.

“Absolutely, yeah, I thought it would be hell but it’s alright.” He winced as he waited for her to either give him a sceptical look or smile, but instead she listened to the keys in the front door and then the heavy footfalls approaching. As the man rounded the corner and walked in, another glass of water and ice was ready waiting for him, along with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

“That’s wonderful, your father and I were a little worried you’d be wasting your time.” His mother turned back to him, watching as he swirled the ice cubes.

“Not at all, Yukio will be passing with flying colours in no time.” He laughed nervously, never being all too good at lying and anxious that they’d catch him out, but neither seemed to notice and his father walked away up the stairs to change out of his suit and into something more comfortable.

He’d always admired his father, and it was his ambition to be as hard working and dedicated as him, always had been, and yet as much as that was true he also wanted to one up him. It was no secret between the two of them that Toshiro wanted to better his father and the pride that instilled in him masked the insult, because at the end of the day what mattered was that his son had his motivation to achieve greatness, and he had no doubt in his mind that he would do just that.

Some ten minutes later, his father re-joined them in the kitchen and picked back up the conversation, as it seemed Toshiro had fallen quiet in his absence, just listening to his mother ramble about the flowers she’s watered earlier that day.

“So if this Yukio boy is so smart, why did he need a tutor in the first place?” He queried, catching Toshiro somewhat off-guard as he floundered briefly before replying in a jerky fashion.

“He just … well, h-he has attention issues, I suppose?” He choked out, watching with relief as his father nodded. He was quickly becoming flustered with all the white lies he’d told that evening. “So all I really have to do is make sure he doesn’t wander off.” He finished quickly, glancing away from his father and toward whatever was under the grill.

“You’re a champ for helping out, though you should’ve arranged to be paid for it.” The man swooped a kiss from his wife who smiled gingerly at the affection, while Toshiro slipped off the stool and round the bar into the kitchen.

“I’m doing it out of the goodness of my own heart, don’t make me seem cheap!” He stated, kneeling down to rummage in the bottom cupboards for something to eat until dinner. His mother laughed a tinkling tune and ruffled his hair.

“No you’re not! We know Mr Kaysen had to bribe you.” She said with a knowing look, to which her son pursed his lips and resumed his scavenging.

“I like to think of it more as incentive, than a bribe.” Toshiro pouted, finally fishing out and fingering the top edge of a packet of sweets, pulling it open and putting one in his mouth. There was a shuffling of pots and pans and the woman dodged and weaved around as he sat on the floor, her shin-length 60’s styled dress brushing against his knees on her way past. On her last trip past him however, she stopped and looked down.

“Don’t snack on that, dinner’s ready!” Reaching down and pulling the bag out of his hands, he pulled a face. “Don’t pout at me either, young man.” She scolded, pointing to the dining room table for him to get up and sit at, which he did, reluctantly.

“What are we having?” He asked, taking the seat at the head of the table, glancing briefly at his father in the chair to his right folding a newspaper and slotting it between the leg of the chair and the table. His mother glided over with all the grace of a ballerina, a plate in either hand.

“We are having,” As she drew up to the table, she paused for suspense, before lowering the plates down in front of the boys. “Grilled Cilantro-lime chicken with avocado salsa and a side of brined dill potatoes, and for desert strawberry cheesecakeadillas!” She chimed, looking to each of them in turn for their reactions. When they both gave her the thumbs up, she went to retrieve her own plate.

“What’s a cheesecakeadilla?” Toshiro asked as she got back and sat down opposite her husband. She beamed at the question, delighted that someone should ask.

“Well, I was playing around in the kitchen earlier, and I couldn’t decide between having this meal set, or quesadillas and cheesecake so I fiddled around and tweaked the recipe and created a sweet sugary desert … thing?” She caught the sceptical look he gave. “Don’t look so put out, Darling, I’m sure it’s lovely.” She assured, smiling encouragingly.

“…Sure.” He replied, starting on his food, making extra care to eat slower so that he could avoid the questionable dessert as long as possible. His father however seemed to be on a very different wavelength.

“Everything your mother makes is a culinary delight.” He said graciously, the flattery making the woman beam brightly, just baring visibly pearly white teeth between slicked scarlet lips.

“It is, but … I’d have preferred just cheesecake.” Toshiro rolled his eyes at the display of affection, and continued to chew a mouthful with perhaps more force than necessary.

“Come now, Toshiro, where’s your sense of adventure?” His mother reached across and swept a piece of fringe away from his face, but he was quick to shake it back where it was. He didn’t much enjoy it when she did things like that, fixing his hair and pinching his cheek and telling him what to wear on the occasion. It make him feel very much still like a child sometimes, to the point where he honestly believed she forgot he wasn’t.

“Buried deep down with my distaste for anything fun related, apparently.” He replied impassively, ducking away when she tried again.

“So how was college today?” His father interrupted the squabble, watching amusedly as his wife tutted and gave up, though she continued to eye it with a frown. Toshiro was thankful however, that he could continue eating in peace.

“Same as ever, but I have a test in a few days I should study a little more for.” He confessed, pushing a vegetable to the edge of his plate.

“Is it not a subject this other boy is taking too? You could study together?” Toshiro resisted the urge to scoff at the idea of actually studying with Yukio. He knew all too well that it would end badly. Trying to get that boy to do work was like trying to soak up the ocean with a sponge.

“No, it’s one of the extras I picked up for Uni.” In between getting up from his chair and reaching across the table for another potato, his mother drew a sharp intake of breath that startled him into sitting back down, seemingly forgetting the desire for additional food. “What?” He asked, voice a nervous waver as he took in her distress.  

“We’re just … really proud of you.” She whined, voice tight and shrill. She held a hand up to her chest whilst the other mopped delicately at her eye as if she were wiping away tears, though he was pretty sure there weren’t any, she just liked to be dramatic. “It seems like just yesterday you were a toddler, but my baby’s all grown up and going to university next year.” A dry sob wracked her shoulders and her husband was quick to reach across the table to her, cupping the hand on her chest and bringing it back down to the table. Toshiro on the other hand, suddenly didn’t feel so hungry anymore, his appetite lost under the dramatics.

“Mum, I’m seventeen not twenty-five, don’t get emotional about it.” He muttered, and wondered why she had to be like that. Was she really that emotionally swayed by him or did she just like to make him feel like she cared all the time. If he was honest, it was a little overbearing.

“Yeah, he’s not a man just yet.” His father smiled, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb comfortingly. Toshiro watched the display and inwardly groaned.

“Of course he is! Look at him, handsome and intelligent and-.” She began to rattle off a list, face growing red and if he looked close enough, to his surprise, her face did seem a little wet. Perhaps she really was upset, though that only served to make him feel guilty about leaving, after all, he loved his parents and would do anything to please them.  

“Can you not? You’re embarrassing me…” He interrupted her, if only to make himself feel better. Again his father was quick to brighten things.

“No sign of a girlfriend yet though.” He teased, catching him a little off-guard with a piece of food in his mouth, causing him to choke somewhat.

“Momo is a lovely girl and I’m still convinced-.”His mother seemed to instantly recover at the topic of girls, and gave no hesitation at bringing up his best friend. ‘ _Of course she wouldn’t_ ’ Toshiro thought sarcastically ‘ _she was obsessed with it._ ’

“Momo is _not_ my girlfriend, Mum, honestly you’ve been pushing for that to happen for the past four years.” He sighed, though he had to commend her persistence. “I have brilliant grades because of the lack of distractions I have, I prefer to keep it that way for the time being.” He explained, though she didn’t seem to have listened.

“Late bloomer, it’s okay.” She smiled fondly at him. “I was like that too, didn’t meet your father till I was at least in my twenties.” Gazing lovingly at her husband, she offered him her other hand as well.

“You had boyfriends before me though, surely?” He laughed, refusing to believe that someone as beautiful as her had managed to dodge attention until her twenties.

“Not serious ones, no. I wasn’t ready for a committed relationship.” She giggled girlishly, and gave him a coy smile.

It wasn’t long before Toshiro tuned out of the sickly sweet conversation his parents went on to have about when they were young, and after he’d finished desert – which turned out to not be quite as awful as he’d expected – he excused himself to his room, but not before ducking into the kitchen and swiping the bag of sweets his mother had confiscated.

In his bedroom, he dropped his bag and books down on his desk and fished out his phone, unlocking it and scrolling through contacts until he reached the right one. Falling back into his bed, he listened to the dialling tone and waited for her to pick up. He knew she would, she could only be doing homework at that time, and sure enough on the second ring, she did.

“Hey, how’s that rabbit you _stole_?” Toshiro smirked into the phone, listening to her bristle as he still didn’t acknowledge her act of heroism.

“I didn’t steal him, I saved him!” She bit back, sounds of her fiddling around with bits of paper rang through the line.

“You stole it, and we both know that.” He laughed at the sounds of protest and continued on with a little more interest this time around, after all, he had helped in her theft. “So have you named it yet?” There was a brief lapse in activity as Momo struggled to process his question, she had thought he didn’t care about it.

“His name is Jack.” She finally said, pushing the glasses up her nose and leaning back in her desk chair, pulling her knees up to her chest, feet on the edge. She listened to him laugh for a good minute before finally choking out a sentence.

“Jack? As in, Jackrabbit?” He pulled a pillow from the head of his bed and placed it in his lap to lean on, still giggling quietly at the stupid name. He had imagined she’d call it something cutesy like she did with every other pet she’d ever owned, and yet Jack the rabbit had been the outcome.

“Yes, fun don’t you think?” Momo quipped back, sounding all too proud with herself for coming up with it. Toshiro merely snorted at her.

“I think that’s not creative at all.” He reached for the bag of sweets he’d brought up with him and placed one in his mouth.

“It’s a pun!” Momo felt the need to clarify. “Because, he’s not a Jackrabbit.” Getting up out of her chair, she padded across the peachy pink carpet of her bedroom to the large rabbit cage her parents had splashed out on after hearing about how she’d ‘saved’ him. Her mother was very much on the same wavelength as she was, and her father couldn’t deny two lots of puppy eyes.  

Just as Toshiro was about to make a witty comment of his own, there was a series of small knocks on his door, followed by his mother opening it and poking her head round, shoulder-length fair hair wavy and immaculate as always, despite having just cooked dinner and washed up.

“Is that Momo?” She chimed, motioning to the mobile phone in his hand. Toshiro sighed, shifting around on his bed to look at her irritably.

“Yes, mum.” He rolled his eyes, knowing she was going to ask him to invite her over for dinner or something equally silly and unnecessary. Try as she may, she would not set them up, he was adamant of that fact.

“Say hello for me, and tell her she’s welcome to come over any time she likes, It’s an awful shame we haven’t seen her for a while.” She proclaimed, frowning daintily and staring pointedly at him as if in plea to bring her back. The boy continued to look at her in disbelief.

“She was here at the weekend.” He said, raising an eyebrow, lip curled slightly at her pushy behaviour.

“Do invite her back, sweetheart.” She grinned, completely missing the disinterest on her son’s face.

“Yes, mum.” He replied, only half listening, as Momo was busy snorting with laughter on the other end of the phone. After his assurance that she’d be over again sometime that week, his mother practically skipped out of the room, sheer delight in every step. The click of the door closing prompted the girl to speak up again after her bout of laughter.  

“I can practically hear her writing wedding invites already.” The thought probably wasn’t far off the truth, since the pair had been friends since they were both were small and it was no secret his mother thought they were perfect for one another. He shuddered at thought.

“Hilarious.” He countered sarcastically, throwing the pillow onto the floor and sliding down onto it. He never sat still whilst on the phone.

“Just because you know I’m funnier than you are.” Momo quipped back. In the time it took for Toshiro’s mother to interrupt and suggest her coming over again, she’d taken Jack from his cage and had him sat contentedly in her lap, feeding him treats every now and again.

“Humour is of little consequence when I’m earning big money and living in the lap of luxury.” His self-assurance was admirable, and yet Momo scoffed at the brazen attitude.

“I thought that sort of lifestyle didn’t suit you.” She interjected, remembering all the complaints he’d made so far after having started tutoring. “After all, your reactions to Yukio’s limousine and house weren’t all that positive I seem to recall.”

“Yukio was born into wealth, it’s different.” He replied sharply, defensively even, defending his own ambition and wanting to separate himself as much as possible from inherited wealth. He was fortunate of course, he couldn’t deny, his family wasn’t poor and he certainly never went hungry, but he wasn’t born into wealth like Yukio was, and as such he had a very singular view of that type of affluence. She made a noise as if to convey being on the fence about that particular statement, in other words, she didn’t see the difference. “Yukio’s a lazy layabout who hasn’t worked a day in his life to earn anything, it’s all just been served up and given to him on a silver platter.” He explained indignantly. “I’m going to _earn_ it. That’s why it’s different.” Momo nodded before realising she’s have to verbally convey her understanding, not that she did understand. Not really. She didn’t see why it was so important for him to distance himself like that, money was money at the end of the day, why should it matter so much where it came from if it was yours.

“Whatever you say.” She was quick to change the topic however, not wanting to have to listen to a full blown rant. She’d made that mistake before, countless times, and wasn’t keen on a re-run. “So how is it going anyway, the tutoring?” She heard him move around irritably, shuffling into a different position before grumbling out a response.

“Awful.” Toshiro lay on his stomach on the floor, using the pillow to rest his elbows on and moving the phone to the other ear.

“He’s not listening to you?” Momo enquired, twirling strands of sweet cola hair around her fingers.

“He’s just so frustrating! It’s like talking to a brick wall; he won’t look at the books I give him, he won’t read the notes I make, he won’t even sit still for long enough. He fidgets all the time.” Toshiro squawked, apparently having that complaint kept to himself was too much, but Momo held little sympathy.

“Well you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to do it, so you can’t complain.” She mused, cooing at Jack, who’d hopped out of her lap and was making his way around the room. The boy snorted unpleasantly.

“Hardly, I presumed he’d just be a little reluctant, but he disappears for hour long breaks and comes back off his face. How am I supposed to deal with that?” Resigning himself to a sigh, he glanced up at the desk where he’d deposited his books and knew he had to study.

“Off his face on what?” Her voice brought him back to the call and he scrunched his nose in distaste.

“Half drunk and high, honestly he doesn’t even care that he could be expelled!” He still couldn’t fathom how Yukio could care so little about his education. Thinking briefly that maybe it was a rich kid thing, he almost missed Momo’s suggestion.

“Why don’t you tell him that he can’t have breaks then?” Blinking, he thought about it, but the more he did so, the less he could see that having any kind of effect. Yukio didn’t listen to him, after all.

“He’d take them anyway.” He concluded, breathing at a sigh at coming full circle back to square one. Momo simply continued her idea, or plan as it was becoming.

“Then tell him you quit, you won’t help him out anymore if he can’t listen to simple instructions.” She smiled to herself, pushing up her glasses and then petting Jack – who had wandered back over – whilst listening to the disgruntled noises her friend was making. “But you’re not really going to quit of course, you’re just going to tell him that to spook him into thinking that his last chance is slipping through his fingers.”

“That’s a little cruel, you think it would work?” A sadistic kind of hope flittered like an ember in the pit of Toshiro’s stomach as he mulled over the potential for success of a plan so deceptive. He wondered if he’d feel comfortable lying, especially since it hadn’t gone unnoticed how lonely Yukio actually appeared to be after he’d taken the time to look. Earlier on, he’d practically begged him to stay.

“There’s no harm in trying it, surely? I mean, his parents would be disappointed in him if he got expelled, wouldn’t they?” Momo chirped, pressed the mobile cautiously between her ear and shoulder as she picked Jack up and lowered him back into his cage for the evening. She’d give him another run around in the morning.

“I don’t know, they haven’t been around when I’ve been there.” Toshiro confessed, only really thinking about the lack of clear parental figures just then. He thought it a little strange, but then they had to be around somewhere, there was no way that Yukio lived alone in a house that size.

“Maybe he has daddy issues?” Momo thought aloud, recalling learning something on the topic in a class the paid both took the year before. The boy furrowed his brows and scratched at his chin, wondering how on earth she’d come to that conclusion.

“He’s not a porn star, Momo.” He declared, sarcasm laced in his voice and a tired smirk curling his lip.

“That’s not the only result of parental issues! Don’t be so close-minded!” She chided, puffing out her cheeks and flushing mildly. Of course he’d jump straight to that, teenage boys were all the same in the end. “Don’t you remember, in Psychology we learnt that problem behaviour in children can often come from a root surrounding parental neglect, like they act up to get attention.” He made a noise of either agreement or acknowledgement, she wasn’t sure which, neither was she sure it really mattered. “All I’m saying is that you should try to hit him where it hurts to enforce the idea that you _will_ stop going if he doesn’t stop acting up.” It was a devilish plan, and a little mean if he was honest, but he felt like he’d give anything a try once.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll try it on Friday.” He said, rubbing a hand over his eyes. It was worth a try.

“Tell me how it goes when you get back.” Momo interjected, glad that she’d been of some use. “Well, I have a bit of Chemistry homework left to write up, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” Moving back to her desk, she sat back heavily onto the chair and let it roll a little before pulling it in.

“Yeah, have you studied for the Latin test?” He queried quickly, wanting to know if he should bother doing a little that evening if he could skip out and do some the next day.

“All week.” Momo replied, much to Toshiro’s displeasure. He began to get up, but she continued. “But I still have a few things to go over, want to meet me in the library in the morning? We can go over them before class?” Sinking back down, he silently thanked her for spending time with the rabbit instead of focusing as much as usual.

“Thanks, I feel like I’m slipping behind.” Yawning, he checked his clock on the bedside table. It wasn’t late yet, barely gracing nine, and yet he felt as though it were much later. Momo giggled softly through the line, her voice terribly gentle at the realisation he was so spent.

“You’re the smartest person I know, Toshiro. Trust me, you’ll be fine.” She knew he hated flattery, he disliked the ambiguousness of either being kind or trying to suck up, but she supposed from her it would be alright. He knew she was sincere, but still he couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“As if. See you tomorrow.” His voice by then was a little raspy as tiredness has slipped over him rather too quickly as he’d gotten comfortable on the floor, and the girl shook her head affectionately at the knowledge that he could’ve probably fallen asleep on the phone without too much trouble. He’d done it before, albeit a long time ago. Only ever with her though, he only ever let himself be so laid back with her.

“Night.” She said softly, and then static filled the line briefly before it went dead. Rolling over onto his back, he sat up and locked his phone, and it was a few minutes still after that before he finally got up and padded back to his bed, pillow in hand.

He was tired, exhausted even, but at least he had a half-formed plan in the works. Maybe he’d be able to get somewhere after all. With that thought in mind, he dropped the pillow back at the head of the bed and pattered off to the bathroom, he’d get an early night and wake up in, hopefully, a better mood.


	10. Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the extended Hiatus, I've been sick and writer's block hit me pretty hard, but I have the next few chapters planned out pretty well so they'll be coming every 4-5 day intervals ~ enjoy :3 x

“He’s so cute.” Momo pined, staring off across the classroom at the group of football players congregating at the back corner, and Toshiro glanced up from his Latin textbook to follow her gaze. She was looking at the boy who sat perched on the windowsill, tall and lean, tan after spending dozens of hours practise in the sun. He watched with waning interest as he raked a hand through tousled dark hair, wearing a dazzling sports-star smile.

“He seems like the type of guy who would buy a Playboy magazine just to jerk off _on_ the pages.” Toshiro voiced in distaste, staring at the male through narrowed eyes and a sneer. Momo spun around and practically threw herself off of her own desk to put a hand over his mouth in an attempt to shush him and not talk so loud. He glared a little and removed her hand from his face, but she didn’t move back to her own desk, instead she placed her hands either side of his legs on the table top and leant in somewhat to talk in quieter tones.

“…That’s a thing?” She whispered, sparing coy glances every few seconds over her shoulder to the boy on the windowsill. Toshiro needn’t bother look as well that time, he knew exactly what she was eyeing.

“That’s a thing, yes.”  He confirmed, pointing with intent at the textbook on the floor which had fallen off his lap in the kerfuffle. After retrieving it and handing it back to him, Momo looked at him curiously, and pondered why he knew such a thing.

“Why do you-?” She began to enquire suspiciously, though it seemed her friend had anticipated the question and was quick to nip the idea at the bud.

“You’d be amazed at the conversations guys have in the changing rooms.” He muttered, even he himself shuddered at some of things he’d overheard, and unlike a select few, he didn’t think cheating or slapping girls around was anything to be proud of or brag about. He even recalled once, someone slipping a dirty magazine into his bag in an attempt to incriminate him or tarnish his good reputation, but he hadn’t even noticed until he’d gotten home and by then it was too late to discard. In a panic, he’d stuffed it under his mattress and not a day went by that he wasn’t terrified of his mother snooping in his room and finding it. Physical evidence was just too difficult to conceal. “I mean, why bother buying a magazine when you could save both face and money using the internet?” He laughed at her look of horror, before regaining grace. “Not that I do, of course, I’m just saying.” Flipping a page in the textbook, he dropped his eyes back to read. Momo blinked at him in slight confusion.

“So .. You do look at it, or you don’t?” She queried, failing to imagine him of all people having any kind of interest in things like that.

“You really want me the answer to that?” He replied without even bothering to look up. A brief quiet washed over the pair, as Momo still wasn’t sure whether to take that as a yes or not, though truth be told, he was right that she probably didn’t want to know. 

“Isn’t it healthy though? I’ve heard it’s healthy and normal to -.” She mumbled, eyes back on the boy on the windowsill, a hot red blush colouring her cheeks at the thought. Toshiro, well aware of where she was going, snapped the textbook closed with a loud ‘ _twack_ ’ and interrupted her.

“Momo, I’m not trying to be a prude, but boys are literally the most disgusting creatures on the planet, you don’t want to know what they get up to.” He tapped her softly on the forehead to get her attention back, as it seemed her mind had wondered elsewhere, though when she looked back at him it wasn’t without a bashful grin.

“Are you including yourself in that sweeping statement?” She giggled lightly, embarrassed almost, but still gently smiling at him as he recoiled to lean back on his hands, book balanced on his knees.

“Me?” He gestured to himself with a mock offended expression. “ _I’m_ not a hormone ravaged, testosterone pumped, sex-deprived lunatic.” He finished with an air of superiority, though he knew it wasn’t as true as he liked to portray.

“Oh, you’re _not_ a sex-deprived lunatic? Do tell me who you shack up with, I’m simply dying to know.” Momo laughed shamelessly, adjusting her glasses and fixing him with a playful look. She knew as well as he did that even she had more to talk about in the area of relationships than him.

“Funny.” He said deadpan, but the sharp look he gave her screamed ‘ _shut up_ ’. She supposed any boy in a college environment would be somewhat embarrassed about it, what with the majority practically shouting their antics to the world, she wasn’t surprised he’d want to keep it close to his chest. “Does he even know you exist?” He asked, inclining his head toward the corner of the room, and Momo blanched.

“Well, no, but I like to pretend sometimes that he does.” She whispered, swooning. “My name would sound so nice coming from his mouth.” Dragging her chair over, she sat down and propped her chin up on her elbows, supported – much to Toshiro’s grumbles of protests – on the textbook.

“Yeah, I bet he would like something coming out of your mouth too.” He bit back, trying to shuffle her off of his book and legs, but failing spectacularly in doing anything of the sort.

“They’re not all like that.” She scolded, becoming a little upset at his lack of support in her love life. Noticing this, Toshiro held up his hands, not wanting her to be upset with him.

“I’m just trying to look out for you.” He defended, though he couldn’t help but think that no matter how much he said it, she would forever see his disapproval as an attack on her tastes. Scrunching her nose up, she stared at him defiantly, trying to crack his answer and make him tell her what she wanted to hear, but after about a minute, she dropped her gaze.

“Not that I don’t appreciate it, but are you really the best person to give me relationship advice?” Muttering, she rubbed the desk with the pad of her finger, absently erasing a complicated maths equation Toshiro had no doubt written in pen and had scratched through the paper.

“Who else is going to?” He replied fondly, a ghost of a laugh in his voice as he glanced down at her, slumped over his legs dejectedly. Sparing a damning look across the room to the boy on the windowsill, he watched as another girl – tall and beautiful, long strawberry blonde hair and buxom chest – skipped up to him and curled into his side like she belonged there. Not wanting Momo to see it, he gently rest a hand on her head and fiddled with her hair to both comfort and reassure, though quite why she liked people playing with her hair he didn’t know, personally he found it annoying when even his mother did so.

The end of lunch bell rang not too long after and with relief, Toshiro saw the sports teams get up promptly, though he continued threading and twirling his fingers through his friend’s hair until he was sure they were out of sight. Finally dropping his hand to pick up his book, he waited for her to sit up, but she continued to rest face down, cheek on his thigh. Wobbling his legs side to side to get her attention, she eventually pushed up and gave him a bleary-eyed and blank stare.

“We have Biology now, right?” He asked as he slid off the desk and stooped to grab his bag, before turning back to the desk to pick up the armful of textbooks he had to lug around, only to have them handed to him by Momo, who already had her bag slung over her shoulder. 

“Yes, and then you have to pay problem child of the year a visit.”  She laughed as they left the classroom and headed down to the science labs.

~*~

It was with a sigh that Toshiro climbed out of the limousine and marched up the steps and across the patio to the front door. He didn’t look up, and he didn’t look around, he looked straight ahead with a well-rehearsed speech ready at the tip of his tongue. The door swung open and he was bowed inside, with a promise that Yukio was waiting for him already in the dining room. The large entranceway echoed his steps, heavy with intent, all the way to the double door where he shuffled the books in his arms to better reach the handle, pushing it open with his shoulder.

“Your timekeeping is-.” Yukio had begun to drawl in a bored tone, prepared to scold him sarcastically for being late, when Toshiro cut across him, sharp and stern.

“Breaks aren’t allowed today.” Without so much as waiting for a reply, the boy made his way to the table where the blonde was, head resting on palms, and lowered his books, taking the top one from the pile and sliding it over to him. “We’re looking at Biology today, seeing as we _both_ have a test coming up.” Finishing, he folded his arms and sat down, daring Yukio to argue, daring him to say anything in fact, but he seemed taken aback by the humourless finality of his voice. Nodding, he took the book.

An hour went by undisturbed, save for the sounds of pens scratching across paper and highlighters slipping across pages, and to Toshiro’s undiluted amazement, so did another. Every so often he would look up at Yukio to make sure he was doing what he was told, and while it was slow, he saw the note paper slowly filling with scribbles and colour. The problems however, came soon after with the rhythmic tapping of fingers on wood. It went on for a while before Toshiro could take it no longer and snapped.

“Stop that!” He barked, startling the blonde and making him lurch back in his chair. Noticing the odd behaviour, Toshiro observed him a little, watching as he leant back over the textbook and shakily picked up the highlighter. A few moments later saw him tapping his feet against the chair leg, a steady tap tap tap that began to form another cruel and cold shout at the precipice of Toshiro’s lips. It was all he could do to bite it back. “Could you please just stop fidgeting?” His voice was as soft as he could make it, and for a moment it seemed to be alright, until Yukio looked around anxiously and raked a hand through his hair.

“Look, man, I-I have to take a break.” He muttered, pushing himself up and eyeing the door, however Toshiro was quick to stand too and slammed his hands down.

“Sit down!” He shouted. “I told you, no.” But Yukio had no intention of resuming his seat and turned on his heel, marching quickly to the doors and upon flinging them open, continued out of the room. Toshiro could have simply left, the thought certainly occurred to him, however he knew that if he did, he’d have achieved nothing and it would have all been for nought and so it wasn’t without a silent fury that he too left the room.

The blonde was a ball of nervous energy as he swept in long swift strides up the left side of the main grand staircase and across the landing, completely oblivious as it were to the fact that he was being followed by a brewing storm. His feet carried him through another set of doors and down a long left wing hall lined by long windows until he reached a room at the very end with a large white door.

“What are you doing? You were doing so well!” Toshiro growled as he caught up, catching the boy’s arm and swinging him round. Yukio pulled away and pressed his back to his bedroom door, his face holding an uncomfortable slick glean and fingers trembling as he held up his hands in an attempt to get him to back off.

“I was trying, I did some work, go have a look! That’s progress right? Progress means I can have some time out!” He babbled, lowering one hand to press his palm against the door and shuffling it around to find the handle, sliding it around to where he thought it would be and pushing it open once he’d heard the click.

The bedroom was immaculate; bed well made, curtains drawn open and tied, tv and remotes kept together, nothing obstructing the floor-space and everything dusted to perfection, though as Yukio pulled clothes out of the dresser and threw them onto the floor, it occurred to Toshiro that perhaps the tidiness of his room wasn’t down to him but some poor maid who had to clean up after him day in and day out. The thought caused a prickle of annoyance.

Walking further into the room from the doorway, Toshiro momentarily ignored the blonde’s frantic searching and glanced around at his surroundings, and how – other than the mess Yukio was currently making – it felt _too_ clean. Too bare, sterile almost and artificial, like it was out of a magazine and no one really lived there. His annoyance melted to pity. How could Yukio live in a place where he had to exist so quietly? He supposed he’d go a little mad too, if it were him.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone for an hour?” Focusing back on said boy, Toshiro noticed he was clutching a small bag of what could only be some questionable substance and squinted at him.

“Put that down, and let’s just go back downstairs. It wasn’t that bad, was it?” He tried to make his voice as soft as he could, as comforting as possible, to calm how shuffly and frenetic Yukio was, but it didn’t seem to make any kind of difference.

“You don’t get it.” When he spoke, he sounded small and vulnerable, like a terrified child being caught doing things they shouldn’t. “It’s easy for you to tell me to put it down. It’s easy, but it’s not for me, okay, it’s not easy!” He shook his head and as Toshiro took some steps toward him, he backed away further, maintaining the sizeable and safe distance between them.

“You’re right, I don’t get it.” He admitted. “I don’t understand what it’s like to be addicted to drugs or alcohol or whatever else you’re on, I don’t know why you let yourself get like this, and I don’t really get the appeal of any of it. It all just seems stupid to me.” Yukio’s face shifted from vulnerable to mutinous.

“That’s because you’ve had such a sheltered goddamn life!” Yukio shouted, the defensive laced heavily in his voice. Toshiro crinkled his nose as the accusation and thought it ridiculous to assume. He hadn’t ever really thought about it and to him, it hadn’t felt sheltered, but of course in comparison he may as well have been living in the lap of luxury.

“I haven’t had a sheltered life, I just did what I was told and tried not to disappoint people. You could do with learning something from that.” He replied in a scathing tone, patience having run dangerously thin by that point. There was a moment in which a stunned silence settled and things were still, and the boys simply looked at each other, but then the blonde lurched back into his senses and stomped furiously toward Toshiro, who foolishly stood his ground in the belief he would stop short of him. In the blink of an eye, Yukio grabbed the boy by his shirt collar with a fistful of fabric and shoved him back into the wall a few paces behind.

“You think you’re so much better than me!” He roared, pressing Toshiro with rather more force than necessary into the wall, forcing him into standing just on the tips of his toes, forcing him to squirm and struggle in the grip.

“Let go of me this instant!” He spat out, though he couldn’t deny the tiny spark of fear he felt at being in such a confrontation. After spending his whole life avoiding fights, being in one was a new and rather intimidating experience he didn’t think he’d be quick to repeat. It took a moment, but Yukio did let him go, but not without a hateful sneer. “Come back downstairs, or I’m leaving.” Toshiro stated some moments later, trying his very best to keep his voice authoritive and strong, though he rung his hands behind his back trying to ease the trembling.

“Go then! I don’t care!” Yukio rounded on him, once again up in his face and confrontational, picking a fight where there needn’t be one. Holding his ground, Toshiro took a deep breath.

“If I leave, I won’t come back.” He affirmed, though still he found himself already eyeing the door, already mentally having one foot out of the room, already wanting to not come back.

“Well shit, aren’t you just so goddamn nice?” Yukio laughed mockingly, sounding shrill and half crazed. “Get the fuck out of here!”

“Okay.” He didn’t need telling twice, and was already one hand on the handle before he felt a startled shifting behind him.

“Wait, where are you going? I didn’t mean-.” Yukio suddenly became panicked, the red anger wasn’t there anymore and he seemed awfully defenceless and exposed once more, like his anxieties and fears were on show on his face for the world to see. Toshiro ignored the shift.

“Home!” He said firmly, though he glanced back over his shoulder just to make sure he wasn’t imagining the change from one polar to the other. Sure enough, Yukio’s fretfulness was clearly visible in his restless shuffling and his seeming inability to remain still or focused. Toshiro felt bad of course, and he felt like he shouldn’t be leaving him in such a state, but he also thought that perhaps what he needed was beyond his help. He sighed. “You’re a mess, and you pissed me off and quite frankly you’re _not_ my responsibility.” He said matter-of-factly. “If you want to fight the system so goddamn much, Yukio, do it by yourself and don’t waste other people’s time with your shitty behaviour.” Opening the door, he was about to step out when he felt Yukio grab his wrist in an attempt to make him stay, though all it did was irritate him. After being told in no uncertain terms to leave, he wasn’t keen on the change of heart. “Get off of me!” Shaking his arm aggressively, he watched the blonde stagger a little at the sudden vigorous motion, and then he was out of the door without so much as a second’s hesitation. He needed out. Out of the room, out of the house, out of the whole insane situation.

Making his way back to the dining room, he passed the butler waiting with an apologetic look by the bottom of the staircase in the entrance hall and made a note to tell him about Yukio’s predicament with the hope that he could make sure he was safe and not in any harm’s way.

He would tell Momo when he got back home what had happened that evening and the disastrous turn of events that took place, and he’d only hope that they could think of a make-up plan to put in action Monday, when he’d have to walk back up the stone steps and confess that he hadn’t meant any of it.


End file.
